The Fairy Mother
by Mourning Peaches
Summary: The Fairy Mother was once the most feared creature in the Dark Forest: the Queen of the Little People, she ruled all. No one can reign forever though. The tale of how a cursed fairy affected Hogwarts students from the FourFounder's 900’s to the modern day
1. Introduction

**AN - **Would you believe this was originally a xmas fic? It was once called "The Vengeful Xmas Fairy" yet it got tweaked and changed so much until it became this five chapt short thingy! Not so funny anymore either, but hopefully there will be some humour. Please tell me what you think. I know I should be writing CoS but I just had to get this out, especially now I've got it all planned out. I don't know how long till next chapter, depends on how much Eng c/w i manage to write tomorrow. **  
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**Disclaimer - **I don't really own anything. **  
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**Summary – **The Fairy Mother was once the most feared creature in the Dark Forest: the Queen of the Little People. No one can reign forever though. The tale of how a fairy affected Hogwarts' students from the 900's to the modern day.

**The Fairy Mother**

_By Nestlé_

**Introduction…**

There is an old wives tale, that a fairy is the by-product of a vain and selfish personality. Whenever someone was seen to spend far too much time near a pool staring at their reflection, or greedily keeping things to themselves the same phrase was spoken. Whether it be grandparents to grandchildren, husband to wife, or aunt to nephew, they all spoke the same: _'Watch you don't care too much for your appearance or try to keep the Lord's spoils to yourself. Or the Fairy Mother will come for you and make you one of her own.'_

Nowadays, with the gap between the Muggles and Wizards as far apart as ever, it is scoffed at. Children have real terrors to be scared of; murderers waiting in the dark yielding weapons much more frightening than any _magic_. Even the magical children, who know of creatures like the fairies, do not fear them, for they are only live decorations. The Fairy Mother has passed into legend, and with her any powers she was believed to of controlled.

With opinions such as these, it is hard to believe that in the days of the Founders of Hogwarts, what was perhaps the most real fear for children, especially Muggle kids, was the Fairy Mother. In the old days, though it was not talked about, Muggles were always aware of magic, and all held a grudging respect for it. It was those who feared of the unknown powers who desperately accused any person who ever gave them a misunderstood look.

The Fairy Mother was said to be the first of all the 'Little People'. She was Mother to fairies, doxies, imps and pixies alike. Even the leprechaun could be traced back to her. She assumed all theirs aspects. She was mischievous like the pixies, loved chaos more than the imps did, was the most quarrelsome and vain of all the fairies, with as much menace as the doxies and had the intelligence and cunning of the leprechauns. She was the worst of them all.

She was said to plant suspicions in people's minds, spread seeds of deceit, and turn the most loyal of brothers against each other. She was the reason for all bad luck, and was cursed rightly for it.

While Hogwarts was nothing more than a few foundations, the Dark Forrest had been alive for many generations yet. It could never die, continuously growing more trees and keeping a bewitched home for its inhabitants. To those who lived near it only, it was known as the Fairy Mother's dwelling. With the terrifying tales about the creatures that lived in it, it was no surprise that the locals connected it with the Fairy Mother.

Only those who lived in the South could laugh at the tale of the Fairy Mother and her dark forest – they didn't have its shadow looming over them night and day. But any who did, were hushed quickly for fear of her spies hearing and extracting their revenge.

With the mystery and forest surrounding her, it wasn't hard for the Fairy Mother to hide the fact that she was just that, a fairy, albeit a very old fairy. She went back as far as the days when all Little People were one, and didn't distinguish themselves into different species as they do now. She therefore did hold all the characteristics – but her only 'special' power was the ability to persuade and trick people with her words. The little amount of magic she did have was only used on her appearance, never had she tried to use it to weave spells, though they would only be simple ones.

Despite her claims, she was not really the first fairy, only the oldest left alive – she saw no harm in the rumour, it only made people fear her dwelling more, so she encouraged it.

But by the early days of the founding of Hogwarts, it was the fear that she had encouraged that was her downfall.


	2. The Founders and Imprisonment

**Part One… The Founders and Imprisonment **

**Sometime in the 900's  
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Godric Gryffindor did not like cowardice. It would be an understatement to say he utterly despised and loathed it. He failed to see that sometimes bravery was also a form of stupidity – and it was this fault of his that made him think that bravery was the best virtue to have, and therefore be the trait that all Gryffindors would be most famous for in the many years to come.

When he first heard of the Fairy Mother, he had laughed his rumbling laugh, and proclaimed loudly that Fairies were good for nothing except pretty lights for chambers. Ironic, but he would not realise that this _would_ be their only use in the new age.

But a few years later, the founders had just started teaching with another batch of willing students – some had come from as far away as Worcestershire in England. They were extremely pleased. Which is probably why the founders became so angry, especially Godric, when their joyous feasting was disturbed by the news that there had been a brawl in the local village and the girl who was responsible for causing it had got off without punishment, her excuse being that, 'the Fairy Mother tricked me'.

Godric said he would go to the village and sort it out, and his three friends agreed to it, for in the mood he was in no one would be let off. In the past few years of the four founders and their students living there, the villagers had moved from tolerant of the wizards to dependent, and they were usually called upon to sort out troubles. The Muggles heard nothing of the witch burnings happening in England, as they were very isolated, and by some lucky chance, not one of them thought of it.

It was this village that would soon become totally magical – not many know, that Hogsmede as it would later be named, started off as a totally muggle village.

It was not long before Godric Gryffindor heard the full story of events. The father of the two original fighters –a pair of brothers, who, until recently had been very close- told Godric that his sons had been arguing over the affections of a young girl.

"I told 'em that lass was nothin' but trouble, the wife did too." The father said, glaring down at the guilty sons and rubbing his hands together anxiously. "But did they listen? Ha! They'd be more likely to capture the damned Fairy Mother than do that."

Godric regarded the family carefully – they looked hard working enough, and he had seen the sons working in the fields before, they didn't look the sort to cause trouble. He turned back to the father.

"Where's the girl?"

He scowled, "She's at her ma's house – the daft womans been flappin' an frettin' about the silly gal since she found out it were Fairy Mother's doins."

Godric frowned, and nodded – he didn't want to give his thoughts on that subject. He returned to the cluster of stone buildings that was the young Hogwarts a few hours later, seething at the gullible peasants. In his mind already was a plan to get rid of this ludicrous idea of a Fairy Mother. That an old tale such as this could be a reasonable excuse for turning two brothers against each other was unacceptable to Godric. She had done it for some amusement, Godric had met the girl and didn't approve at all. The old farmer was right, that girl was nothing but trouble. He frowned again – he wouldn't be surprised to find she had some Veela blood in her, vain and pretentious she was.

Helga met him outside the doors of the dining hall, blinking in surprise at his obvious angry stance. She had expected him to let out any pent up frustration, by yelling at the villagers. Yet, he didn't appear to have done any yelling at all, Helga blinked in surprise again. There _must_ be something wrong.

"What is it?" She asked, biting her lip anxiously.

"Bloody peasants, they're a bunch of gullible fools." Godric growled.

Helga breathed easy again, and smiled warmly. She was a good ten years older than the other three founders (with Salazar Slytherin the youngest of them all) – and more often than not acted like a mother.

"Yes, yes, come inside and you can tell us what happened this time." She clucked, trying to push him through the doors.

"No." He said, rather too forcefully. "I'm going to end this 'Fairy Mother' tale tonight."

Helga snorted and laughed loudly. "What? That silly old myth?" She smirked, "What are you getting all worked up about that for?"

"It's stupid-" Godric began.

"Yes, well, I know that."

"-and the villagers think it's an excuse for everything. We're going to find that silly Fairy and prove she's nothing more than that – a fairy."

Only now did Helga begin to worry. "Now? In the dark forest?" She asked weakly.

Helga Hufflepuff was no coward. She only saw the difference, unlike Godric, between bravery and stupidity, and this was definitely the latter. Entering the forest at night with only the aim of trying to find a single fairy was bad enough. But, Godric wanted to try and find a fairy that was more than likely made up years ago by a tired old woman who wanted her children to behave.

"Of course." Godric said, beginning to like the idea more and more.

"Absolutely not." She said firmly, rising slightly on her toes to show her dominance, even though Godric was still a foot taller than her.

"Why not? Are you scared?" Godric taunted, forgetting himself.

Helga's sharp eyes, which were normally so warm, narrowed, and she glared at Godric like a little boy who was misbehaving. "You know better than that Godric." She said, "Let's go inside, perhaps Salazar will talk some sense into you."

These were times of peace for the Founders, before the discovery of magic-blooded Muggles and the arguments that ensured between the founders.

Though both men were prone to bouts of stupidity and childishness, Helga had to admit that Salazar was sensible at the best of times – wary for his own safety. Unlike Godric, he wouldn't go barging into danger without a second thought. It was his tendency to think it through first, and it was the hope that he would do this and manage to stop Godric, which Helga clung to.

Once again the story was told, but to Helga's frustration, Salazar found it all very entertaining and claimed that they hadn't had a good adventure into the Dark Forest for a while. Helga ground her teeth and turned in a last hope to Rowena. She had watched everything with no more expression than a raised eyebrow and small quirk of the lips.

"Rowena! What do you say to this idiocy?" Helga said now very red in the face.

The dark haired lady shrugged lightly, "We cannot stop them Helga, you should cease trying. If they want to go galloping of at night into a forest that holds creatures that can quite easily kill them without even leaving enough time for them to draw their wands and try to defend themselves," She sighed heavily, and rolled her eyes, "On their heads be it."

Rowena was always like this, expressing her distaste or agreement with the things her friends did – but making no move to stop or include herself in the activities. She never took sides, but Godric and Salazar both held a wary respect for her, as she never lost her head and was remarkable at duelling. Helga though, thought the woman was a bit _too_ cool, but a good friend all the same.

"Fine!" Helga snapped, spinning away from Rowena. The three of them tired her out with their own unique mannerisms; it was quite a struggle to control it all, as she tended to do.

Soon, all four founders were marching into the forest. Godric and Salazar went to find the Fairy Mother; a competitive air had come between them. Rowena went for research, she claimed, but both Godric and Salazar knew it was because she would very much like to catch the Fairy Mother herself and as she had done many times before, bring both of them to shame. Helga went because the other three did, and she didn't want to sit at home waiting and complaining, she'd much rather bring her complaints straight to them, and she did. Making sure all three of them understood how much she disapproved.

The four went their separate ways, all searching for the Fairy Mother. They hardly talked in the later years about what they discovered in the many hours they were in the forest. Though Helga mentioned unicorns, and it was believed she discovered a herd of them and spent most of her time blissfully happy wandering through the trees with the enchanted beasts. Rowena came back with a sudden new interest in astronomy, even with her logical doubts, and more than likely spent her time with a centaur or two. Salazar, though he did not come back empty handed, did not find the Fairy Mother, only several new kinds of herbs he excitedly spent the next few months finding uses for.

Our brave and noble Godric Gryffindor however, did achieve his goal, as all knew he would, he was too stubborn to give up, and though he never spoke about what happened, by the bruises he had it was obvious the Fairy Mother had more power than expected. She was queen of the little people after all; they would not allow her to be taken without a struggle.

The Fairy Mother herself, well she was a mystery, she certainly looked like a normal fairy at first glance, but soon you started to notice certain differences. It was these differences the four founders were talking about, now safely back at Hogwarts.

Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were seated round the large ornate table in the Gryffindor common room – at that point just the beginnings of a stone tower. In the middle of the table was a large elaborate birdcage provided by Helga, with several binding spells placed on it.

The small glittering eyes of the age-old fairy glared out at the four friends. Focusing more often than not on Godric, who, if looks could kill, would be writhing on floor as all his organs slowly imploded. As it were, the Fairy Mother had to be content with just imagining it.

All Four Founders felt her anger, like small waves of rage that seemed to waft over them, emanating from the cage. They all contemplated this in silence, each gazing at the unusual fairy before them.

She glowed, like all fairies; pale, wax like skin contrasting greatly with her dark clothes. The doxy blood in her was shown in the long and straggle black hair that reached her lower back. Her wings were black, larger than normal and at this moment were still, showing the silver veins in the thin membrane. She was different from all the Little People, yet she was all of them together. No wonder she was their queen.

"Look at those eyes…" Helga breathed, "Like small orbs of jet."

"Or beetles eyes." Salazar added with a grimace.

"Small they may be, to us, but in proportion to her face they are large and the lack of a pupil only exaggerates their size." Rowena noted, as always acting like this was just an examination of some creature.

A hiss sounded from the cage, and though they all caught the general meaning of it, only Salazar understood what word was spoken, and he did not repeat, lest Rowena directed the anger it would ultimately cause at him.

"Perhaps it is not best to offend-" Helga started, but was cut of by the raspy voice of the Fairy Mother. Her words still held the hissing sound of snakes, but she spoke in English.

"You fools," She whispered, looking out from the golden bars of the cage, "You will regret this when my children come for you."

Godric laughed, "They won't come, I made sure of that, none of them can trace you now."

"Besides, the weak magic of a fairy, even in numbers is not enough to beat four fully fledged wizard trained in defence." Rowena quoted, she could have had a book in front of her.

"You're trapped." Salazar said, smirking. The Fairy mother bared her teeth in a hiss, showing the sharp venomous fangs that doxies were famed for and slick, pointed tongue.

Once again, Salazar did not bother to translate her words, though this was through embarrassment. He instead settled on wondering how this fairy appeared to know more Parseltongue curses than he. He knew their languages were similar, but not this much.

"There's no need to taunt her." Helga scolded, smiling down at the fairy, if a little unsurely. Godric hadn't got all those bruises from walking into trees, she was sure. Then again, he was very clumsy…

"Why do they call you the Fairy Mother then?" She asked brightly; Godric resisted the urge to roll his eyes, Salazar however, did not.

"Because I am the mother of them all." Was the cold reply; Helga's smile faltered slightly.

"Did you make that girl from the village have the two Smith brothers fight over her?" Rowena asked.

The first sign of a smile appeared on the Fairy Mother's face, though it was more of a leer, "I didn't _make_ her do anything."

"Indeed?" Helga's voice now took on the form of a reprimanding teacher.

"I merely talked with her and advised her on a few things. You'll find that little Sarah has quite a troublesome mind in her own right." A few minutes of silence followed, before Rowena spoke.

"I think," She said, "it is quite obvious that this-" she waved her hand in the direction of the cage and its contents, "-_creature_, cannot continue to live in the forest, she obviously has a… disruptive influence." The Fairy Mothers' sharp eyes seemed to glitter at that comment. "She cannot stay near the school."

Rowena smiled suddenly, "But I think it would be wise for us to keep a close eye on her…" She turned to Godric, as if offering him a gift "What do you propose?" 

Godric grinned widely, Rowena did have a way of making things seem right to Helga and yet still keeping them fun. Godric could propose whatever he wanted –within reason- and Helga couldn't argue, the Fairy Mother was too dangerous to let free after all.

He caught Salazar's eye across the table, they both shared a smirk, subconsciously agreeing to find the right punishment between them.

"I'll have to think it over Rowena, but thank you for letting me decided." He said, rising, Salazar followed suit.

"Not at all Godric, after all, you found her." Rowena smiled coyly, and Godric and Salazar left the room, presumably to discuss what they should do.

"You should not of done that." Helga said.

"Why not? It amuses them. And she deserves it," Rowena said, rather forcefully, glaring down at the fairy in the cage, who only stared back placidly.

Helga was surprised at the anger in Rowena's voice, since when did she take a part in the lives of the peasants?

"Did you know these brothers?"

Rowena moistened her lips, and looked back up at Helga, "Not personally. I knew of the eldest though; Jack." She glowered once again at the fairy, "He was, until a week ago engaged to Eliza."

"Eliza! She never told me!" Helga, being the mother hen of all students, usually knew the most about them, and Eliza, who was one of their very first students, and who's teaching had been mastered by Rowena, was very close with the warm hearted woman.

"Nor I." Rowena replied, "Until I happened upon her crying last Monday in my study. He has said he had found a 'normal' girl, though he'd had no problem with Eliza's magical abilities before, no doubt it was some dribble the little brat Sarah fed him." Rowena's voice was filled with venom, and she stared down in contempt at the fairy.

"I don't know what surprised her more," She said, referring to Eliza, "That I was willing to comfort her, or that I had some understanding of what she was going through."

Helga smiled gently, not many knew that Rowena had been engaged before she came to Scotland. It had been an arranged marriage, and Rowena hadn't minded at first. He had also opposed magical ability though, and upon realising it was a choice between her magic and her to-be-husband, Rowena had left for Scotland in search of the wizards who were meant to be setting up a magical school. Her family however, had not agreed with her decision. To be blunt, Helga, Godric and Salazar were her family now.

"My dear Rowena, to those who do not realise why you put on such a harsh exterior, it can be a bit intimidating. Yet, no doubt Eliza is even more loyal to you now than before, you have her respect and her understanding."

"Besides, Eliza and Jack will sort themselves out again, a little squabble is all it was. She will soon forgive him, though I bet she will not admit it till he has done a little grovelling!"

Rowena laughed, and they both left the room, making sure the Fairy Mother was secure in her cage.

She watched them leave; cursing them in all the tongues she knew. She was imprisoned, and waiting judgement, when just yesterday she had been flying free in the forest. They would pay, she vowed, pay for what they have done, and what they will do. She was the Fairy Mother, the Queen of the Little People, and she would show no mercy.

If it weren't for the damned cage that is.


	3. Serpent Tongue's Teacher

** AN - **I'm sorry if there are mistakes, I didn't have enough time to check it properly.**  
**

**Part Two… Serpent Tongue's Teacher **

**The early 1940's**

A thousand years is a long time.

Well, she thought it was a thousand years, maybe a bit more… or less. Either way, it's a long time to be imprisoned in the inflexible body of a decorative ornament. He'd certainly come up with a brilliant _punishment_, she thought savagely and not for the first time. Once more she cursed Godric Gryffindor and all of his descendants; yet the small amount of satisfaction she achieved from cursing him seemed to decrease every year she was stuck in this godforsaken castle. As did her magic, manmade structures sucking it out of her bit by bit. It took all of her force of will to not just give up and be bled of her magic till she was a lifeless body – a true decoration.

_"The Fairy Mother__," He had sneered, "will spend the rest of her life as a decoration for our castle walls! She is but a fairy after all, I believe it might even be a pleasure for her."_ All too well she remembered their expressions. Godric Gryffindor; that boastful grin, as always, proud of himself, Rowena Ravenclaw; a smirk that showed her pleasure at the revenge they had enacted, even Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff had the slight quirk of the lips, as if it were but an amusement!

Godric Gryffindor had never totally understood what torture he had inflicted on her with his complex incantation, none of the "Four Great Founders" had really any idea what they had done, they had all taken part though and only with their death did they show any understanding of what magic really is. She may only be a fairy; but she was a ancient fairy, she had been considered old decades before any of the Founders were even conceived; she was from the days of true magic, and only she knew that these great wizards were weaklings beside the sorcerers of old. Yet that history was long gone, and the future rulers of this world were now the students who wandered these halls with their energy channelling wands. If only they knew the power they could hold.

She had watched them break apart; the opinions of the four had battled against each other, so that in the end Salazar had left. Helga had blamed her, claiming that she still had influence. For the next five decades she had been moved to the highest tower, to be a stone carving molded to the castle wall, that had been the worst place of all the years she had been trapped here, not even people to watch, and the weather… she shuddered to remember it.  
Even the pleasure of seeing her jailers finally wither away into death did not mask the dismal knowledge that with them died her only decent hope of ever escaping. 

They had taken her freedom to their graves; and they did not even realise it.

With there deaths there had become a slight lift in the harshness of her punishment. Every now and again, after a few decades or more, the house elves took pity on her and moved her somewhere else; only they knew at the least something of why she was there. The Fairy Mother had passed into legend, Godric Gryffindor having "conquered" her a long time ago, and no student or teacher would even guess that the once feared creature of the Dark Forrest was the talking ornament of the castle; she was just another quirk, along with the moving staircases and talking paintings.

She had been in many places of this castle, in many forms, and for the past thirty years she had been a dark marble statue in the library; perched in a little alcove in the wall so that few noticed her, and those that did were usually trying to hide something from the librarian. Despite the house elf that placed her here's amusement, she failed to see the humour or irony of being put next to the dark creatures bookshelf. The lack of movement and magic were no longer so irritating, it was more the boredom; she contemplated just sleeping for another twenty years.

Closing her heavy marble eyelids slowly, she prepared herself for the hard work of switching off her thoughts. Then her eyes flashed open again as she felt something she hadn't for many a year. Not since Salazar Slytherin had been alive. _A Parselmouth…_

She surveyed the pale skinned, dark haired boy who had walked into her little corner of the library. A fifth year, she surmised, though he looked older. He had been in the library before, she recognised him, though had lingered always in the Dark Arts section, and had never come close enough for her to sense the language of the snakes in him, until now.

He was bending down and searching the shelves, muttering to himself all the while. What exactly was this boy looking for?

"Searching for something in particular?" She hissed, the language flowing freely off her lips; how she had missed speaking it, it was surely her favourite of tongues; none surpassed the serpents' knowledge of old lore, and the cursing... Few knew that the snakes were the most fluent and imaginative of all species when it came to curse words.

The boy looked up sharply, glancing around him at human height. He did not look for a snake! He didn't know his own skill; oh, how she could use this.

"Behind you…" At once he jumped up and spun around, wand raised. For those who comprehend the language of the serpents, but don't realise it, the first experience can be rather... eerie; like a voice in your head, that seems to be whispering to your very soul.

She enjoyed the bewildered look on his face, as he met with nothing but wall. "You should not overlook things, just because they at first glance appear to be no threat." She spoke in English. He looked up at her, failing to hide his confusion that an ornament was speaking. "After all," She smirked, "Danger comes in many a form."

"I thought only the portraits had voices." He said.

She grinned again, "That is true, the paintings only have voice, no mind to speak of except for an imprint of personality."

"Is there a incantation on you? Just like the suits of armour a Christmas time?"

"An incantation…of a sort."

He touched his forehead gingerly, "You no longer speak in my mind."

"I never did." She hissed. He jumped back.

"You did! Just then!" He exclaimed and then stopped in wonder; he put a hand to his lips in surprise, he had felt his mouth forming different sounds than what he had intended. It seemed he could only speak Parseltongue when someone else near him also had the skill.

"Do not look so confused; understanding and acceptance will follow soon. What is your name?"

"What language am I speaking?" He breathed.

"Parseltongue, as am I."

"Serpent tongue?"

"Call it that if you must, though it is not normally done by those of the skill. It is normally spoken of like that by those whose ignorance brings them fear."

"I can speak the language of the snakes? It sounds just like English."

She was beginning to get exasperated. "To you maybe. But to anyone else, you are hissing like a serpent. What is your name boy?"

He took a long breath, and replied in English, "Tom Riddle."

The Fairy Mother blinked in surprise; he had grasped changing between the languages quickly, perhaps he was not as dim as he first appeared.

"I am glad to have met you Tom Riddle. It had been too long a time in which I haven't spoken with a fellow of the same unique skill."

"Who are you?" He replied, controlling his uncertainty and once more raising his wand, which had hung limp in his hand while we had been speaking.

With some difficulty, though she did not let it show, the Fairy Mother forced her marble body to bend in a bow; at least she had some influence on the stone that imprisoned her physical form.

"The Fairy Mother, at your service."

He snorted, "The Fairy Mother is but a myth!" He laughed, "Even if she did once exist, my ancestor and his friends banished her from Hogwarts a very long time ago, and she is well dead now."

"Not quite true… The Founders never banished me, only cursed me to remain in this forsaken castle as a meagre ornament, and as you can see, I am not dead; though it was a very long time ago-" She paused in her speech, suddenly noting what he had said, "Your ancestor?"

Tom Riddle smirked, "I am descended from Salazar Slytherin."

The Fairy Mother wiped any trace of emotion from her marble features. "That you are…"

"The man who supposedly caught and imprisoned you." If possible, Tom Riddle's smirk widened.

"Wrong again." She replied harshly, "It was Gryffindor who caught me, and all four Founders made sure I was trapped here." She did not mention that it had more than likely been Salazar who came up with the curse.

He grinned again, "Either way; your still trapped here, and no doubt will be until you finally give in and just die – it's your only way out I'm afraid."

He did not sound remotely sorry; and the Fairy Mother was suddenly despairing to be with just her own company again. He turned to leave, but with only the hope that he was just like his ancestor in his thirst for power, made her call out to him.

"What was it you were searching for?"

He turned back to face her, expressionless, "Something to bring me power- to give me the edge over the students."

She controlled the smile that threatened to show, and only replied, "Then you only have to follow the trail your ancestor left for you."

"For me?"

"You are his heir."

Comprehension dawned on him, and a wide smile spread on his features, "The Chamber…"

Hearing the heavy and unmistakable footsteps of her regular visitor to the Dark beasts section, she told Tom Riddle to hide behind the shelves.

"Stay quiet and you might hear something to your advantage." Surprisingly, he obeyed.

Her favourite student, though only because he had such a knack for getting into trouble; though he never intended it, rounded the corner.

"Hello Hagrid." She said sweetly, unlike Tom, Rebeus Hagrid had never doubted that she was trustworthy.

"'Allo, you doin' all righ'?" He replied, bending down to look at the books, he may only be 13, but his frame said differently.

"I'm fine, thank you."

Making sure that Tom Riddle was listening, and she had eye contact with him, she said, "The books on spiders have been moved to the top shelf Hagrid."

"Oh, cheers." Hagrid replied, hobbling over. She looked again at Tom Riddle, who was looking thoroughly confused. She smirked, and winked at him, he slowly moved away, making sure Hagrid hadn't seen him.

The Fairy Mother laughed to herself. Oh, Tom Riddle would have much to think of this night… and if he discovered Hagrid's little secret, well, all the better. She couldn't wait to see what events would evolve from this meddling; she laughed again. The Heir of Slytherin, of all the students to come waltzing past her, it had to be Salazar's descendant; things were looking much brighter this day. Little did she know that she would find it far more amusing than she had first predicted.


	4. Wolf Lies

**AN - **FINALLY! Part three! Wooohooo! Personally, I prefer this chapter to the last, but that's because there's no Hagrid, which i hate writing, as i can't! You'll find from now on in my stories, that Hagrid, if he appears at all, is strangely silent. Maybe I should write a story about how Hagrid goes mute - I could do that! Anyways, the next chapter (which i will write a damnsite more quickly than this one) is the last! Which will make this sotry the only story with more than one chapter that i have actually finished! Wooohooo! Yes, so it features the fabulous trio, and has the finally demise of the Fairy Mother, Woohoo! (I've really got to stop doing that... one last time, Woooooohoooooo!)

**Disclaimer - **Mine, it's not!

**Summary **- The Fairy Mother was once the most feared creature in the Dark Forest: the Queen of the Little People. No one can reign forever though. The tale of how a fairy affected Hogwarts' students from the 900's to the modern day.

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Part Three… Wolf Lies  
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**Spring of 1973**

The Fairy Mother growled, a deep, menacing snarl that emanated from her throat. Slowly, she opened her eyes, she felt dust fall away from her face, and she stretched, shaking away the filth that had settled on her painting while she slept. Three decades she'd been a painting, and she had yet to decide whether it was more enjoyable than being a statue. The last remains of grime fell off her as she shuddered: _This is what I've been reduced to? Deciding which of my punishments is the most enjoyable!_

Now she noticed it however, there was something not quite right. Oh, the fire was glowing warmly in its usual irritating manner, and the sofas were spitefully looking comfy and inviting, the Fairy Mother glowered at them, somehow hoping that over the past few decades her glare would have weakened them so much that they collapse.

It was quiet. That was it, quiet, unusually quiet. She had learned to block out the every changing happy face of the students, and she only missed them as an afterthought.

She glanced at the window to her left, the sun was only just setting, and this was normally the busiest time in the common room. A thrill of excitement shot through her at the possibility of something other than the normal happening! It was quickly quenched when she realised how sad that was, self pity followed closely behind.

"What do you mean exactly? That he's been _lying_ to us!"

The Fairy Mother glanced down, surprised to find three boys grouped underneath her painting, they had been whispering, until a moment ago, when the tallest of them had spoken out, loud enough for her to hear.

"Shh Sirius! I just think it's a bit weird, him being ill, at the same time, every month, don't you?" The middle of the boys, with scruffy hair and glasses said.

"No." Sirius, the one who had yelled and caught her attention stubbornly replied, "I don't think it's the slightest bit weird, its perfectly normal. James, he is not lying to us. Why would he?"

"Stop being so stubborn, can't you at least begin to wonder why-"

"Maybe you're both right." The smallest of them had finally spoken, and the other two turned round to stare at him.

"What!" They said in unison.

"Maybe Remus is ill every month, but this illness is something he can't tell us, so he has to lie and say it's something else." The two taller boys continued to stare at him, their mouths wide open.

The Fairy Mother smiled. At last, some amusement! She knew exactly which boy they were talking about: Remus Lupin. Even she was not so deep asleep to not notice when a werewolf came to Hogwarts, and as a student no less! Rowena Ravenclaw would have thrown a fit!

"What kind of illness?" James finally asked.

"I don't know, something contagious I guess, that only appears once a month, or where we'd know what it was if we saw him with the symptoms…" It appeared that Peter's train of thought had ended.

"Oh come off it," Sirius said mockingly, "What illness only appears every month! That's ridiculous!"

The Fairy Mother spluttered with laughter, it had taken the little chuffs a year and a half to finally realise something was up with their friend, and they still couldn't guess what it was! Godric Gryffindor's students had always been lacking in intelligence, only they liked to disguise it as "bravery", but this was unbelievable!

The boys continued to argue amongst themselves, and the Fairy Mother wondered what they would do if they did manage to work it out, abandon him most likely. Werewolves had been feared and misunderstood in her time, but things had only got worse as the years went by. They would probably tell everyone too, he'd have to leave the school; he'd lose his friends. Oh, how entertaining that would be!

Gradually gathering her energy, she spread her fingers and gripped the canvas she'd been embedded in. Power surged from her fingertips, and she felt the colours and pattern of the paint around her change. Instead of the dark forest and tree she'd been portrayed on before, she now sat in a grassy field, the moon shone brightly behind her, and the shadow of a wolf moved in the background.

Calmly, she cleared her throat. The smallest, Peter looked up at her painting, but quickly away again. More loudly, she coughed, and said, quite politely she thought,

"Anything I can help you with boys? Problem you can't solve? Equation you can't find the answer to? I'd be happy to lend a hand to three handsome lads like you." To finished speaking with a grin that showed her sharp and pointed incisors.

The three boys turned to look at her, but to her annoyance they merely grimaced and turned back to each other, the tallest muttering "No thank you."

"Now, that's not very nice. You'll be surprised by how much I know about your friend Mr. Lupin."

They all stared at her condescendingly, "What does a portrait of a simple fairy know about this!" James asked.

"I'm not a simple fairy honey, or a portrait. You should be more polite to your elders, I am more than one thousand years your senior, and the Fairy Mother does not look kindly on those who are rude. Especially when she offers help." The Fairy Mother's eyes flashed dangerously.

"The Fairy Mother!" Sirius barked, "A myth! You are nothing more than charmed paint!"

The Fairy Mother flicked out her tongue to lip her lips, all the boys saw was a quick dart of black moving over her mouth before it was gone. She shook herself, dark and veined wings trembling with anger.

"You be careful boy, or I wont tell you what's wrong with your friend. And I'm sure you're all _dying_ to know."

"Go on then," Sirius challenged, grinning smugly, "What is wrong with him?"

She smiled, and spread her hands out, pointing to the scene around her.

"Isn't it obvious? I changed my background just for you." The three boys frowned at her, confusion evident. The Fairy Mother's black beetle eyes sparkled with humour. Slowly, keeping eye contact with the tallest boy, she howled, letting the sound waver and fall, and then rise again in pitch. She was rather pleased by how realistic it sounded. _I really can do some amazing things when I try_, she mused.

"I always thought," she said when she had finished her imitation, "that wolves were the most ferocious of all beasts."

The paling of their skin and widening of their shocked eyes was enough to keep her cackling for the next ten years.

* * *

The Fairy Mother was feeling bitter – more than usual. She had overheard, only a few days ago, the werewolf's friends plan to become animagus, and help him. It sickened her; people surely weren't that loyal when she was free? Were they? 

Much to her disgust, the four friends barrelled in through the door into the common room at that moment, cheering and shouting. They were covered in mud, and one of them, James she thought his name was, was wearing Quidditch robes.

She heard a frustrated sign nearby, and turned to look at a red head who was watching the four with an expression of annoyance. "It's just Quidditch," she muttered, "Do they really have to make so much noise?"

"I know exactly what you mean dear," The Fairy Mother said, surprising the girl who turned to stare at her, "They do that all the time, sneaking out after hours and coming back making such a racked they wake me up."

"Really?" The girl's green eyes were flashing with interest.

"Oh yes, I'm surprised you don't hear. And what they say about their fellow students! Well, it's just horrible!"

The girl suddenly looked worried, "Have they ever said anything about… well, me?"

The Fairy Mother bit her lip, pretending to be unsure, "Well, I didn't want to say – it's so horrible, it would really hurt your feelings."

The girl's face fell, and her eyes suddenly looked watery. The Fairy Mother tried to look sympathetic, but she feared the grin she was trying to hide was making her mouth twitch.

"Hey Evans!" A yell came form across the room, the girl, presumably Evans, turned to look. It was James. "Did you see the match?"

Evans glared at him, her lip curling, "Oh, sod off Potter! I don't care about your stupid Quidditch Match!" She turned and stomped up the staircase to her room.

A bewildered James Potter flicked his gaze to the Fairy Mother accusingly. She merely smiled, chuckling lightly. Who said no good ever came from lying?

* * *

Wooooooohoooooooooo! 


	5. Stupid Christmas Fairy

**AN - **COMPLETE! COM-CHUFFING-PLETE! Woooooohooooooo! I have finished a story! A short one mind, but i've finished one more than one chapter! Praise the lord! Yes, so this FINAL chap is short, barely 1000 words, in fact it might be something silly like 1001, im not sure, but i dont care - its the last one! This is an early birthday pressie for Becbe, though when she finally reads it she'll of probably been 16 for months!

**Disclaimer **- Nadda mine.

**Summary - **Fairy Mother was once the most feared creature in the Dark Forest: the Queen of the Little People, she ruled all. No one can reign forever though. The tale of how a cursed fairy affected Hogwarts students from the FourFounder's 900's to the modern day. Dark humour!

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**The Fairy Mother**

**_by Nestle_ **

**Part Four… Stupid Christmas Fairy**

**Christmas of 1994**

Sulking, the Fairy Mother decided, really did get quite boring after seven years of it. It was the 7th anniversary of the day she decided she would simply just sulk until she grew tired of it. To be truthful, she was rather disappointed; she'd hoped she'd have lasted much longer. But alas, she feared she would never be able to retract her bottom lip if she did not stop now.

Perhaps she should try brooding next. It had some appealing possibilities; after all, it was all the vampires ever did, and they never seemed to grow tired of it! The Fairy Mother tried to remember a period in the 1200's where she thought she had brooded for a while. Of course, she could have been moping; the two were very similar. And then there was that decade in the 1600's, she wasn't what _that_ was, her memory was a little foggy.

Yes, brooding it was, maybe she would beat her record. _How exciting_. As the Fairy Mother shifted her eyebrows into an expression much more suitable to brooding, she began to notice that something was different, very different.

She'd been made into a porcelain figure around five years ago by a House Elf who was rather fond of "pretty china" as he put it. It was an activity that had very nearly disrupted her sulking, she might have accidentally moved onto complaining by mistake. It hadn't taken long though, not with House Elves magic. She'd been placed on a shelf, still in the Gryffindor Common Room. She was most definitely not on a shelf now – she was a damnsite higher! And something was spiking at her leg…

A flicker of gold caught her eye, and she glanced at it quickly, her lip curling when she saw what it was.

_Tinsel_.

She shuddered, only to find her stiff ceramic body wasn't able to. Something sparkled to her right, and she rolled her eyes down.

_Baubles! With glitter!_

Oh, by the cry of the Augurey, this could not get any worse.

It was Christmas. _Again_.

Only this time she was the bloody Christmas Fairy!

The Fairy Mother let out a shriek, and tried to wriggle her body, but her stiff figure was firmly attached to the top branch of the Christmas tree. A soft tune wafted in her hearing range, ad the Fairy Mother paused to listen to it. Her face slowly took on an expression of horror when she realised what it was: carol singers. This was a place of year round merrymakers, at Christmas, they became deafening!

The Fairy Mother began to wail, all thoughts of brooding disappeared as she let out the warbling moans of despair and anguish.

"Will you shut up! It's bad enough with that lot!"

The Fairy Mother stopped instantly. Her scowling eyes roamed the face of the girl who had spoken. Dislike sparkled at once; the Fairy Mother was _not_ spoken to like that.

The girl sighed loudly, and smoothed her bushy brown hair behind her ears, turning back to the roll of parchment she was working on, the Fairy Mother could just make out the separate shapes of the runes.

The Fairy Mother whistled. Only a shot burst, but it was enough to make the girl flinch in annoyance, once again, she whistled, only this time a long tinny melody wafted through the air.

"Stop it!"

"Stop what my dear?" The Fairy Mother asked sweetly, smiling prettily.

"Making noises!"

"I don't know what you mean… do you realise that you've made a mistake at the beginning of that paragraph?"

The girl stared at her, and then turned to her parchment, after a couple of seconds she began to furiously scratch out her writings.

"And then of course the grammar in the third line down is absolutely ghastly. Are you sure you should be doing this subject dear? I mean, you don't seem very good..."

The girl clenched her teeth, glaring angrily at the Fairy Mother, she merely smiled.

"I'm happy to help you. I know a great deal about languages."

"I'm sure you do." The girl muttered.

Two boys plopped themselves down next to the girl with a sigh.

"Transfiguration." One muttered miserably.

"Potions." The other said, with equal despair.

She didn't answer them. Soon the two boys, having realised no sympathy or even reaction would come from her, grudgingly began to attempt their work. The Fairy Mother clicked her tongue. From far above in the tree, she could see the knuckles of the girl's hand whiten. _Oh, this was fun_! The Fairy Mother thought, cackling with glee.

"Harry," The girl said, "Will you tell that annoying ornament thing to stop it?"

The red haired boy chuckled, the dark haired lad, presumably Harry, turned towards the tree in bewilderment.

"Stop what?" He asked.

"The noises! Can you not hear the noises it's making!"

"Well – yeah, but, it's not that annoying."

"Yes it is!" The girl was shaking with fury.

The Fairy Mother cackled aloud this time. Nothing this amusing had happened since she told that pathetic Neville boy that his friends were sneaking out, if she remembered correctly, this was the same girl who had performed the full body bind on him. He had landed right underneath her shelf, oh, she had giggled all night about that! The Fairy Mother burst into laughter again at the memory.

"SHUT UP!"

A flash of light.

A wave of heat.

The sound of breaking china.

The girl pulled her outstretched arm back and pocketed her wand. She seemed perfectly calm now; she picked up her quill and began to write again.

The remains of the Fairy Mother's ceramic shell stayed scattered on the carpet underneath the Christmas tree. Forgotten.

"That wasn't necessary Hermione." Harry muttered, continuing with his transfiguration work.

"Oh shut up," she replied. "It was just a stupid Christmas Fairy."

Hermione never learnt that she was responsible for the final demise of one of the oldest, and evilest, creatures ever to haunt the Dark Forest.

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COMPLETE! 


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